A Touch of Hope
by NinjaNovelist
Summary: It is one of the darkest times for our three heroes, but all it takes is one little girl to make their lives just a bit brighter. Spoilers up to and including A Good Man Goes to War.


**Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, the Eleventh Doctor would be mine. ALL MINE.**

Amy was having some trouble grasping the situation at hand. One moment she had been with her husband and best friend, reveling in the thrill of another completed adventure where they had once again beat the odds and made it out alive, the next she had been whisked away to the glaring white walls of a hospital room, not only suddenly pregnant, but on the verge of giving birth.

And then she met face-to-face with the woman who had been haunting her both in her dreams and in reality, instructing her to push. And as her stomach constricted in the most agonizing way imaginable, Amy reacted just as any other frightened mother-to-be would. She screamed.

The hours that followed were nothing but a blur of searing pain. But what made it all the more unbearable was that there was no Doctor to make her laugh and forget her discomfort, no Rory to hold her hand and help her through this. Amy had to go through the most tortuous experience of her life all on her own.

Suddenly a much younger, yet just as piercing, cry mingled with that of Amy's. For the briefest moment, the new mother found comfort in the sound, knowing there was someone just as confused and terrified by this abrupt change of events as she was. But the noise of her new baby was soon gone again, probably taken away to be cleaned.

A few minutes later, the door opened and a young nurse entered the room. She sat herself beside Amy and gently explained what was to become of her and her daughter. They were to have six weeks together, giving the baby a proper source of nutrients for a time. Amy would be permitted precisely eleven minutes at regular four hour intervals for feeding, but apart from that the two were to remain separated. Once the allotted time was completed, the child would be taken away and Amy would be free to go.

The woman gave a small smile, but it was met with only a cold glare from its recipient. Amy knew she was just trying to be kind, but thought of losing her baby made her want to kill every other living being on this blasted asteroid, and the nurse before her seemed as good a place as any to start.

But before she had a chance to further consider this option, a second woman joined with the first, this one carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms.

All anger instantly melted away the moment Amy made contact with the infant she had unknowingly carried for nine months. The girl who always had a witty comeback was at a loss for words as she took in the child's perfect face, running a hand over the beginnings of red hair just like her own. The baby's eyes fluttered open, and Amy gasped when she realized they were just like Rory's.

Suddenly it didn't matter that they were lightyears away from Rory and the Doctor, that their time together was limited, that these people wanted her daughter for something that couldn't possibly be anything good. If there was one thing her Raggedy Man had taught her, it was that time is something precious. You can't spend it regretting what's been done or putting too much faith in what will be, but you have to focus on what's in the moment and cherish it.

Right now, she had her Melody. And she was going to spend every minute she could singing.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Rory's eyes, so often filled with kindness and compassion, was at the moment filled with nothing but contempt as he held a sword to Kovarian's throat. The eye-patched woman had stolen his wife from him and nearly done the same with his child, and all it would take was one jerk of his weapon to rid her of the universe. But the Centurion chose to show mercy; even in ancient Rome he had managed to abstain from killing (besides his own girlfriend, of course, but preferred not to think about that), and to be honest, he could never bring himself to do such a thing.

He sheathed his sword and gave the command for Captain Avery and Toby to take her away. He was just about to follow suit when a soft whimpering reached his ears, and he wheeled around to find that its source was coming from a small metal cot forgotten on the floor.

The sight reminded him with a jolt that he was a father now. That would take some getting used to.

Rory cautiously approached the cot, unaware that he was still gripping the sword at his belt as though he feared that whatever lay inside would suddenly leap up and attack him. After a few centuries he reached the small cradle and knelt down, and ever so timidly he reached forward and lifted the visor.

He had never been one to believe in love at first sight, but upon laying eyes on his child he instantly began to reconsider it.

"Hello there," he greeted as he took the baby's tiny hand in his far larger one. The soft cries quickly ceased as the infant took a tight hold of Rory's finger.

That was when he first noticed the hospital bracelet around the baby's wrist. Date of Birth: May 28th. Gender: Female. Name: Melody Pond.

Despite the utter joy he was feeling, Rory couldn't help but grimace at the surname. He knew Amy and the Doctor would insist on calling her that, and eventually he would give in. But honestly, what's wrong with keeping your father's normal, boring old last name, just like everyone else does?

Best not to answer that.

"Now then, Melody _Williams_," he began purely out of spite, his nurse instincts took over as he lifted his daughter from the cot. "Just promise me that you won't grow up to take after your namesake, alright?"

Melody responded by settling herself against her father's armor and falling asleep, and despite the Centurion's best efforts, tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes.

And as he turned to move down the hall with his new daughter in tow, a certain woman's warnings on this being the Doctor's darkest hour fled from his mind. He was far too preoccupied with controlling his emotions before reaching his wife.

"Pull yourself together, soldier," he ordered himself. "Amy will never let you live it down if you cry like this. Be cool. Be cool."

He wasn't.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

He had told Amy and Rory that he couldn't find her. He said that he had searched far and wide across countless galaxies, followed every clue could dig up that could lead to their missing daughter, but he had reached a dead end every time. But if you learn nothing else of the Doctor, you must always remember the first and most important rule in handling that impossible man.

The Doctor lies.

Finding Melody had been so simple, he had been nearly convinced that it had to be a trap. In 1969, the little girl in the spacesuit had been about five years old. So all ad to do was travel back that far to the orphanage, evade a few Silence along the way (as the three black ticks on the back of his hand told him), and soon enough the Doctor was standing over the cot that held his best friends' sleeping child.

"Well, well, well Miss Melody," he tutted. "For someone so small, you certainly know how to make quite a ruckus. Hmm, ruckus. What a fun word to say! Ruckus, ruckus, ruckus..."

He chuckled quietly to himself as he gathered the baby into his arms. "Come along, Pond. Let's get you back to your parents."

He spun around and, as carefully as one can while holding an infant, hopped over to the TARDIS. But when he tried the doors, he found them to be locked. He tried everything he could think of to get through: snapping his fingers, looking in vain through his bigger-on-the-inside pockets for his key, even attempting the sonic the lock (he knew that it didn't do wood, but he was getting desperate), but it was all for naught.

"What do you think you're doing, Sexy?" he whispered as loud as he dared to the blue box. "We need to get Melody home."

The Old Girl only hummed indignantly in response.

"Oh, don't give me that," he complained. "Believe it or not, I alwaysknow exactly what I'm doing."

Choosing to ignore the deep rumbling erupting from the spaceship that he knew was laughter, the Doctor glanced down at his left hand. Four black marks.

"We don't have much time. Just let us in!"

Sexy's reply reached a whole new octave, indicating that she was losing patience.

"What do you mean 'Remember Mars'?" the Doctor cried. "I'm just saving a life, rewriting time, doing what I always do. What's so wrong abou-"

What a minute. Mars... oh, of course.

It really had been too simple.

Glancing down at the child he was holding, the Doctor's eyes aged far older than his appearance suggested he was. "She's a fixed point, isn't she?"

The TARDIS didn't need to say anything. He already knew it was true.

The last time he had toyed with a fixed point, his pride had gotten in the way of his better judgment. He had thought he was the master of the universe, the Time Lord Victorious, be he was to discover that in reality he will always be enslaved by it. And today at Demon's Run he had risen even higher, then fallen even further.

He didn't know what was so special about this little girl, why she was a constant in the universe, why she was a vital key in the war against him. But he had no intention of damaging things even more than he already had.

So with heavy hearts he turned and began the long trek across the room to the empty cot.

"I must warn you, Melody Pond," he began. "You have a very difficult life ahead of you, mostly because of me. And I am so, so very sorry for that."

Just as he reached the cradle and reluctantly set the child back down, she began to stir. Melody opened her eyes and looked up at the Doctor, a sleepy smile on her face that spelled out an expression of undying trust that the Time Lord felt he didn't deserve, and never would.

Five ticks. Tick tock goes the clock. Time to go.

"But if you wait long enough, my dear, just like your parents before you, one day you will be _amazing_."

He leaned down and kissed her downy head, then darted to the now-compliant TARDIS and swung open her doors. He could hear the footsteps of the ever-aloof Silence, but he chanced one last look at the baby as she began drifting back to sleep.

"Until next time, Professor," he whispered.

The doors shut, and moments later the blue box disappeared from sight (silently, as someone had once taught him), leaving behind the dozing child who would someday grow up to be River Song.


End file.
